


In the Beginning ...

by White Queen Writes (fhartz91)



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Eden - Freeform, Fluff, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-24 21:35:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21106367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fhartz91/pseuds/White%20Queen%20Writes
Summary: What if Aziraphale’s job on Earth, in part, was to keep an eye on Crowley because God realized She’d made a mistake banishing him from Heaven?





	In the Beginning ...

**Author's Note:**

> I’m sure other people have written this, but here’s mine XD

“Aziraphale?”

A holy light shines down upon the angel currently scrambling to fit the last grey brick from a rather large hole in the great stone wall back into place. He spins around quickly in response, nearly twisting an ankle in the soft, disturbed earth.

“Yes, Almighty?” he replies, shielding his eyes from a glare that glows brighter second by second, as if God’s goal is to blind him on the spot. “H-how may I help you?” He worries his hands, then throws them behind his back so as not to bring attention to the fact that something those hands should be holding, something the Almighty gave him specifically to do his job, is now gone, paving its flaming way to the outskirts, clutched tightly in the hands of the first man protecting the first woman, both of them banished to the wilds beyond.

Banished for disobeying God, which he, too, has done.

_‘Heaven help me,’_ Aziraphale thinks, which smacks of irony seeing as he’s begging for help from those he’s just betrayed.

Any way he looks at it, he’s doomed.

He hopes Adam and Eve don’t walk too quickly. He may be catching up with them in a minute.

“Aziraphale, my dear,” God says, Her voice motherly sweet. “Come. Stand with me. I desire to talk with you.”

“All right,” Aziraphale agrees. No sooner does he say it then he’s standing at his post overlooking the Garden of Eden, and the apple tree he’d been tasked to guard.

The one that slipped his notice right when a giant snake tempted Eve into eating the fruit she’d been warned to avoid.

_‘This is it. Banishment.’_ He steals a final look at the glorious Paradise he’ll never set eyes upon again. He just got this appointment, too. It was a stepping stone, coming on the heels of another promotion set to begin soon.

Now, he’s finished.

_But would he change a thing?_ he asks himself privately. _If the situation presented itself again, would he do anything different? Would he second-guess giving up something valuable, something God-given, to protect the vulnerable and the innocent?_

_No_, he answers honestly. He doesn’t think he would.

Aziraphale stands in silence beside the shaft of light, God’s ethereal form, for some time, ready to defend himself and his actions, before it becomes too much for him and he clears his throat to speak.

“God?” he starts. “Might I inquire as to what it is you wish to speak to me about?”

God heaves a heavy sigh.

A _disappointed_ sigh.

Aziraphale’s stomach drops to his feet.

“Aziraphale,” she says sorrowfully, “I may have made a mistake.”

“That … that doesn’t make sense. You don’t make mistakes.”

“I created the concept of a mistake. I definitely make them.”

“What kind of mistake?” Aziraphale asks when he knows he should be holding his tongue. A sudden chill freezes him solid. Why would God be confiding in him this which sounds so utterly important if it didn’t concern him directly? “Is it me? Am … am _I_ the mistake?”

“No, my love. You are not a mistake. Not by a long shot.”

Aziraphale sighs so deeply he shrinks a foot. “That’s a relief.”

“Do you see that demon over there?” God directs her light on the apple tree, the Tree of Knowledge, and a scaled, red-bellied creature slithering swiftly out of sight.

“I … I see a serpent.”

“Look with your third eye.”

The serpent burrows into the earth then as if it knows it’s being watched. Aziraphale squints to catch a glimpse of it past God’s golden glow before it disappears. “Ah, yes. I see now.”

“Just like you, that demon was once an angel. But now …” Another heavy sigh “… he is Fallen.”

“H-how? Why?” The words slip past his tongue before he can think better of it. He shudders with the feeling that he’s taking a huge risk questioning God.

“I banished him. Tossed him out of Paradise,” She explains succinctly and says nothing more. “And I realize now that I may have been a bit hasty with that decision.”

“If you feel you have made a mistake,” Aziraphale says, choosing his words carefully, “why not reverse it? Bring him back?”

“It’s not that simple.”

“It’s not?”

“Unfortunately, no. You see, all of my creations have their part to play in the Universe. And when I set them on their path, no matter what that path is, how it may change, they must remain, headed in one direction. Once an angel is Fallen, there is no way they can return. That’s where I’m hoping _you_ come in.”

Aziraphale looks away from the hole the serpent escaped into and up at the light that is God. “Wh-what do you mean?”

“You and he are similar. You have the same pure heart, you cling to the same truths, though you execute them differently. You’re opposite sides of the same coin.”

Aziraphale frowns. “Coin?”

“You’ll find out about those later,” God dismisses. “I need you to help me keep an eye on him, Aziraphale.”

Aziraphale nods. _This_ he understands. “So that his doing Evil deeds doesn’t prevail over the greater good.” He folds his hands in front of his stomach and puffs his chest with pride of his appointment. “Gabriel already told me.”

“Gabriel is wrong. Though, by the time the two of you meet, you won’t remember I’ve said that. In fact, you won’t remember this conversation at all.”

“Why won’t I?”

“Free will. In order for you to take this particular assignment, you can’t remember that it _is_ an assignment.”

“Forgive me for my confusion, but what exactly is it you need me to do?” Aziraphale asks, mildly disappointed that the great role he was supposed to play in the evolution of the Earth, the inspiration of all humanity, may now be changed, demoted, due to the fate of one single demon.

“I need you to make sure nothing too bad happens to him, Aziraphale. Oh, he’ll do Evil. He’s a demon, and as such, must do demonic things, but … I want him to know that no matter what, he is loved.”

“If … if you erase my memory then how will I remember to do that?”

“You won’t need to.” God chuckles. “Within five minutes of meeting you, he’s going to fall hopelessly in love with you.”

Aziraphale’s face scrunches. “Really?”

“Yes. From this day forward, he’ll devise plans to ensure that the two of you forever meet throughout time.”

“Yes, I see. I suppose you’ve … you’ve planned it that way.”

“You underestimate yourself, my dear. _That_ I will play little part in.”

“But … don’t you control everything?”

“Again, it’s confusing. The only answer I can give you is _yes_ and _no_. Will you do it?”

“Why are you asking me? Can’t you simply make me do what you want? Set me in motion the way you set him in motion?” With a wince, Aziraphale notices how bitter that came across. He doesn’t question God’s ways, but that doesn’t mean he always appreciates Her line of thinking.

“No. Not when it comes to love. You have to decide this for yourself or it won’t turn out the same. The outcome won’t be genuine. Also edicts of this nature would need to pass through the head office, and I don’t want the Archangels knowing about this request. It’s top secret.”

“Top secret?” Aziraphale repeats, tossing God’s request over and over in his head. Down below he sees the serpent surface again. It looks up at them, tilts its head, and grins (if a serpent _can_ grin. Normal serpents can’t but a demonic serpent probably can …). It ducks beneath the earth once more and disappears. “If I do this, will it be for the good of humanity?”

“Yes? No? Possibly? This one time, that can’t be the crux of your decision making.”

Aziraphale’s eyes unfocus as he considers what God has said. He feels better knowing that this assignment isn’t a demotion, but he still has to wonder … why him? Why would God choose a principality for something like this, especially if it’s this important? Wouldn’t an Archangel be better suited for a mission of this kind? Keeping tabs on a demon should fall somewhere in their purview.

Unless this _top secret mission_ isn’t as important as God is making it out to be and just a fancy way of assigning Aziraphale to babysitting duty.

“Will he really fall in love with me?” Aziraphale asks, unsure why it matters. It should matter because he’s a being of love, but it surprises him how much that doesn’t seem to enter into his thinking. It matters because it matters, whether he can explain why that is or not.

“Yes,” God says, matter-of-factly.

“Will I … fall in love with him?”

“Eventually, but it’ll take a bit longer.”

“H-how long?”

“That depends on you, Aziraphale. But right now, time is running short. The demon is coming, so I need to know how you wish to proceed.”

“I think I should …” Aziraphale pauses when Gabriel’s voice, of all things, leaps into his brain.

_“Your job on Earth will be to inspire humanity.”_

_“Inspire humanity to do what?”_

_“To be good. Follow the rules. And to, you know, love … one another,” the Archangel replied uncomfortably._

_“Yes, of course,” Aziraphale said. “I read that in the literature I received. Thank you for that, by the way. What I need to know is how, exactly, am I supposed to do that? I have a general idea but what are my parameters? Do I have any guidelines?”_

_Gabriel blew out a breath and made a face. “Not really my department.”_

_“Oh,” Aziraphale replied, as lost then as he is right now._

Did _anyone_ in Heaven know what was going on?

Inspire humanity. Inspire them to be good. To be compassionate and kind. To be loyal to God.

To help one another. _Love_ one another.

That was a _huge_ undertaking, no matter how Gabriel sneered and smirked when he mentioned it.

Aziraphale could do both jobs in tandem – inspire humanity and look after this demon. So no, not a demotion. Besides, it’s a top secret mission bestowed upon him by God Herself! Is he really going to say _no_?

It’s the _love_ aspect that he’s having trouble wrapping his mind around. Love humanity he understood. But love a demon? And not necessarily for the sake of humanity? That part has been left to interpretation, apparently, but that’s not the point.

Love a demon.

A demon who will fall in love with him.

And make sure he knows God loves him still.

Because God may have made a mistake.

Oh, and fall in love himself, as if that’s something he can easily overlook.

That’s _everything_!

His stomach takes a turn and _dammit_! Why wasn’t he looking after that stupid apple tree the way he’d been supposed to!?

He doesn’t feel prepared to make this decision on the fly. He hasn’t entirely come to terms with what eternity as a whole will hold for him. This is the beginning. What happens in the middle?

What happens at the _end_!?

But while he ponders these quandaries, his mouth speaks unexpectedly for him.

“I’ll do it,” his mouth decides.

“Excellent!”

“Yes, excellent,” Aziraphale mutters, shuffling uncomfortably in place. “So, when do I begin?”

“Somewhere around … now.”

Aziraphale hears a sharp crack, like fingers snapping. Or could it be thunder? He thought he saw a fork of lightning out in the distance. Thunder would surely follow. Still, he can’t help the feeling that he was talking to someone about something important, but he can’t remember where they left off.

Or who they were.

_“_Sorry. What was that?” Aziraphale looks about him, confused. He’s at his post on top of the wall, the Eastern Gate of Eden, only he can’t recall how he got there. He’d been down in the garden giving those poor people his sword. He’d finished repairing the wall when he saw a light. He thought the Almighty had caught him, come to reprimand him, but now he’s back here.

Why can’t he remember what happened in between?

He turns his head left and right, then left again when the body of a snake rises up and transforms into the human-shaped figure of a demon dressed in long black robes and spreading glossy black wings.

“I said, ‘Well, that one went down like a lead balloon,’” the demon says, staring out over Eden forlorn, as if searching for a way home.

Aziraphale straightens, unnerved by the thousand nonsensical emotions erupting inside his brain, bursting like poppies with explosive colors and pungent aromas, dizzying him with unasked questions. “Oh,” he says, coming back to himself. “Yes, it did, rather.”

***

“Angel …”

Aziraphale startles. He turns and looks at his companion handing him the bottle of wine they’ve been sharing.

“Hmm?” he says in response.

“What if the Almighty planned it this way all along?” Crowley asks, gazing across the bus stop bench at Aziraphale, serpent eyes behind dark lenses hoping for an answer, some insight that only an angel might have that he is too far removed from. “From the very beginning?”

“Could have.” Aziraphale grabs the bottle by the neck and takes a swig. It tastes bitter, like truth. The realization that this ineffable plan – ineffable _game_, really – that God has devised isn’t just for the world, but for _all_ Her creations, including them. They had played a part in it, too, regardless of how small, impotent, and in the end, unimportant that part was. But that begs the question - if saving the world wasn’t _their_ particular goal then what was? What did they get out of all of this? Had the world exploded, they would have survived one way or the other. So why involve them?

The thing they got out of it, Aziraphale discovered, is the thing he refuses to acknowledge yet - not because it’s bad (in his eyes) but because it would be selfish of him to do so.

They got one another.

Was that part of God’s plan, too?

Aziraphale shrugs.

He’s not drunk enough to decide.

“I wouldn’t put it past Her.”


End file.
